The Practically Tragic Tale of Lady Elwen Romenel
by Lhachel
Summary: Trapped in a body that isn't her own, Elwen has to fight to keep the story on track and her own sanity intact. Will she actually succeed? Mary Sue Parodyfic.
1. Chapter One

_**The Tragic Tale of Lady Elwen Romenel**_

**Chapter One- Oh, What a Beautiful Morning... Not  
**

_I'm rewriting a story that's been sitting for some four years. I figure that's enough time to let it stew- maybe now my editing can make it amount to something. Almost everything belongs to Tolkien, but Elwen and the situation are mine._

I hate mornings, as a general rule, and that morning wasn't an exception to it. I opened my eyes to see my ceiling, all dark wood and skilful carving, dappled with sunlight from the window. It was far too bright and I rolled over onto my stomach to try and go back to sleep.

"Milady?" I had been almost out when a soft voice near my ear spoke. "Does it please you to rise? Your father has need of your counsel."

My brain started working at that. My mother and father had divorced when I was ten, and I hadn't seen him since then and when it dawned on me that whoever-the-hell-it-was had called me 'milady', I sat bolt upright in shock.

"Lady Elwen? Are you well?" I looked over at the speaker- a slender, incandescently beautiful girl looked back, her eyes nervous. Behind her, everything was different than it was when I went to sleep- light woods, green hangings, and a view onto pine woods and mountains and waterfalls that I was pretty sure I would have remembered. The girl repeated her question. "Are you well, milady?"

"Uh. I'm fine, I think." I was in shock now, just looking around at the room.

"Good. Your father wishes to see you as soon as you are dressed and have breakfasted. Which gown would you like to wear today?"

I probably resembled a fish as I opened and shut my mouth. "Um. Could you decide? I'm not sure at all."

"Ah, I think something green would be nice today. To match your eyes, of course."

Last time I'd looked in a mirror, my eyes had been a kind of greyish-blue.

She walked gracefully to the wardrobe- more gracefully than I'd ever seen anyone move- and pushed her hair back, revealing a delicately pointed ear. My hands went to my own ears, practically of their own volition. They were pointed too- this latest development probably should have surprised me more than it did, but I was feeling practically blasé by now.

The elf-girl came back to my bed, carrying a long, delicate-looking dress of green silk. It was trimmed with silver embroidery and beading that twined around the neck and the hem like vines. She laid it over the foot of the bed. "I thought you might wear this, milady."

"Uh." Okay, wearing that? I'd fall and get tomato sauce all over it or something. "Uh, that looks lovely."

"Put it on and I will do your hair." She glided out of the room, and I managed to get the gown on, fumbling with the laces that tightened it to fit. It was quite long, and the sleeves were drapey and they kept getting in my way. I had to keep pushing surprisingly blonde hair out of my face. I moved to the mirror I'd seen as she came back in, apparently psychically knowing when I'd finished getting it on. I sat in the chair set in front of the dressing table and stared.

I was beautiful! Forest green eyes that were exactly the shade of my dress, wavy gold hair that reached to my waist, and a flawlessly alabaster complexion- not to mention a perfect nose, amazing cheekbones, and full, scarlet lips. What on Earth- no, wait, this definitely wasn't earth- what the _hell_ had happened to me? Whatever it was, it was pretty good. I was a beautiful elf-maid. What could be better?

The maid finished combing my hair and then braided the parts next to my face, fastening them together behind my head. "Now, milady, do you wish to eat breakfast in here, or in the hall with everyone else?"

"Um, in here, please." As amazing as this was, I wasn't ready to deal with more surprises. Not that that ever stopped them...

A young elf ran in and said quickly, bowing politely to me. "Your father needs to speak with you in the hall of fire, Lady Elwen. He says for you to come as quickly as you can."

The elf left just as quickly as he'd entered, and the maid frowned. "Lord Elrond must be worried if he wishes to see you before you've broken your fast. We'll go at once."

Woah. Pause, back up, run that by me again? Lord Elrond? Lord Elrond is the father of three kids. Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir. I've read The Lord of the Rings at least ten times, and not once have I ever seen some 'Elwen' in there. Even if there was such an elf, I was not her. And being Elrond's daughter was... well, it was wrong. I didn't mind being a beautiful elf- who would? But being Elrond's daughter was screwing up the story, and that I did mind.

I had no idea what I could do about it, though.

At a loss for other ideas, I followed the elf out of the bedroom, into the pretty hallway. All the elves I passed either curtsied or bowed to me- I couldn't remember, did they do that for Arwen? I hoped she still existed and that I hadn't stolen her spot.

The maid- I'd have to find out her name at some point- opened the door to the Hall of Fire. It was everything I'd imagined it to be, the Elven architecture beyond words to describe. It was empty, except for the elf sitting at one of the fireplaces, staring contemplatively at the flames.

I bit my lip as I recognized him as the noble father of the most beautiful elf in Middle Earth, Arwen Undomiel, and two handsome, valiant sons. I'd always had a bit of a crush on Elladan- that was probably really creepy right about now. Lord Elrond Peredhil, my 'father', looked up.

"Elwen, my daughter, why do you look so mournful?"

"Why do you call me your daughter, Lord Elrond? I'm not even related to you!" I couldn't help myself- there had to be a huge, gigantic, cosmic mistake here. Maybe pointing it out would help.

Of course, he just looked aghast. "What did your journey do, that you exclaim thus? You are my eldest child, my Morning Star! Of course you are my daughter."

Eldest? Since when?

He stood and put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. "Sit now, my child, and tell me of your journey. I see that something happened on it that has disturbed your mind in a strange manner."

I groaned out loud this time. He was persisting in the delusion that I was his daughter, and he was asking me about a journey that I'd never taken! What on Earth- Middle Earth, really- was I supposed to do?

"My lord, you're really mistaken. I never went on a journey, and I'm _certainly_ not your daughter." I covered my face with my hands, ignoring Elrond's attempts to pull them away.

"Elwen, your journey has obviously upset your mind. Nendilme will take you back to your room to rest- I will come to you later and attempt to devise a cure for this strange malady."

The maid- Nendilme- led me back to my room, where I collapsed on my bed, my mind working furiously. I was a Mary Sue! I'd become one of the things I most hated. I could probably sing like an Ainur and fight like Jackie Chan, Legolas, and Aragorn combined. I still didn't know if I'd replaced Arwen, and to top it all off, this was the movies- Elrond bore a suspicious resemblance to Agent Smith. I wondered morbidly who was going to fall in love with me- would it be Legolas? Or Boromir or Aragorn?

It was probably far too much to hope for Eowyn.

I was going to have to leave, but that was such a Mary Sue thing to do, running off to avoid horrible fates, or drama, or something, anyways. I tried to ignore the internal voice that had all its alarms going. _::Moral dilemma! Danger! Moral dilemma!::_

Either I could stay, pretend to be Elrond's daughter, fight off the attentions of one or more amorous men, or I could run away, get hopelessly lost or captured by orcs, or eaten by wolves, but I wouldn't have messed up the story that much. Or maybe going to sleep and waking up to find out it was all a dream would work.

For now, anyways, it was definitely the best option.


	2. Chapter Two

_**Chapter Two: Imposterization  
**_

I awoke the next morning to see the same ceiling I'd seen the day before. Still in Rivendell. Still a Mary Sue- wonderful. I could hear Nendilme in my room and blinked- my senses definitely had improved since becoming an elf.

I had had lovely dreams during the night, with pretty woods and a handsome blond (and half-naked) elf in them. Wait... I was pretty sure that elf had been Legolas. Why did I dream about him? I'd never even lusted after him. Was someone- or some_thing-_ controlling my dreams, and if so, did that mean that I was going to meet Legolas and become a mushy couple?

The thought honestly made me a little ill.

My door opened and I heard Elrond's voice. "Is Elwen awake yet? I have need of her."

I sat up and said- although my tongue almost refused, "What is it, F-F-Father? What do you need?"

"You must ride to the aid of the Ringbearer and Aragorn. Arwen has said that she would go, but I am loath to send her when a faster rider and better swordswoman is able to go."

Ride to the aid of the Ringbearer after the Nazgul attacked him? Arwen's job! Or Glorfindel's! I shouldn't go- my internal voice was whooping the moral dilemma alarm again.

"Are you sure you shouldn't send Arwen? She is a great warrior. Or maybe Glorfindel," I suggested, a little feebly. It was embarrassing- even though I knew that it was Arwen's job, I kind of wanted to do it.

Elrond frowned. "Glorfin-who? No matter. Arwen may be a warrior, but your prowess is unmatched and Nardal's speed surpasses that of Asfaloth. My child, I _beg_ you to go."

Who was I to say no to a begging Elf lord, even if I was breaking canon and calling the wrath of the PPC on my head? The words seemed to say themselves. "I will do it F-F-Father. Don't worry."

I walked to the front of the stables where my gold (Gold? Weren't Elven horses usually white or silver?) horse Nardal was waiting. I leapt gracefully on her back, uttering a bastardized quote. "Noro lim, Nardal! Noro lim!"

The mare jumped forward, and behind me I could hear the disconsolate neighing of Asfaloth as he was uncanonically left behind.

Riding was something I'd never been good at before, but it wasn't really a surprise when I found myself riding very well. After all, I was basically invincible, if I could trust Elrond's comment about me being a better warrior than Arwen- not that that was a particularly comforting thought.

The ride was going very quickly. Nardal was nearly as fast as the wind that swept through the trees in this desolate country- I couldn't see much for scenery as it blurred past, which was disappointing. I'd rather liked it in in the movie.

Soon, the Magical Mary Sue senses that I'd acquired tingled, and I turned my horse off of the Road onto a small path that lead into the woods. I almost trampled Aragorn, who was down on the ground searching frantically for athleas, and I searched for a good opening line.

"Um, Lord Aragorn?"

Yeah, that one was classic.

------------

I was surprised to see Lady Elwen. I had been so caught up in looking for the athelas for Frodo that she'd snuck up on me and surprised me with an innocent, almost nervous sounding "Um, Lord Aragorn?"

I knew her plot. She was trying to get me to fall in love with her- it wouldn't work, no matter how hard she tried. I wished it had been Arwen who had showed up. I had to respond, so I asked one of my more inane questions. "Lady Elwen! What are you doing here?"

Alas, I knew the answer before she gave it. "My f-f-father sent me to help you. I'll do whatever I can to aid you and the halflings." Now why did she stutter when mentioning her father? And how did she know about the hobbits? The last news I had of her had said she was in Gondor or Rohan, adventuring as she tended to. I didn't know the answers to either question, so I just replied to hers.

"One of them is gravely injured. He must be taken to Rivendell as soon as possible.".

"I'll ride with him back to my f-f-father." She shifted uncomfortably in her saddle as she said this, glancing down at the reins. It didn't make sense- she wanted to get me, so why not stay by my side? Unless she was showing off. Perhaps I could get away from her, though...

"You should let me ride Nardal and take Frodo to Rivendell. It's a dangerous road, and I should be the one to face it." I started walking towards the hobbits, and she followed me, arguing.

"You must stay with the hobbits. I'll ride with Frodo. That's how it works."

"Elwen..." I glanced at her- she had the obstinate look that I knew would take hours to dislodge, and Frodo didn't have hours. She'd always been stubborn, desiring to take the glory for herself. I could imagine the praise she'd receive for riding to Rivendell, the Nazgul hard on her heels, carrying the injured Ringbearer.

I might as well let her go. Then at least she'd be away from me.


	3. Chapter Three

_**Chapter Three: Like Riding A Bicycle  
**_

I followed Aragorn down the path towards the hobbits. It was a nice path, all trees and shrubs and flowers and other woodsy-ish things. I took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the forest and, more unfortunately, the scent of unwashed man. Hearing wasn't the only sense that had been enhanced, and the heir to the throne of Gondor needed to bathe more often.

"Who is she?" Merry asked as I knelt beside Frodo. He was very cold, and I felt a trickle of worry, even though I knew it would turn out all right. I vaguely heard Sam respond that I was an elf.

Like I'd needed reminding. I picked Frodo up- he was far too light, after days without much food and that knife tip in his shoulder.

"Aragorn, I must ride quickly. He needs help."

He looked unreasonably exasperated. "Of course he needs help, Lady Elwen. I told you that."

Sam came over, looking anxious and a little belligerent. Apparently no one was taking his Mister Frodo without his leave. "Who are you? Where are you taking him?"

"To Rivendell, Sam. To the Lord Elrond. He's a far better healer than Strider or me." Definitely better than me. I carried Frodo back to Nardal, listening to the murmurs behind me.

"How did she know my name?"

"She's an elf. They know things that other people don't."

"Other people know my name, but I've never seen her before."

"Oh, Sam. You're hopeless."

I stifled a fit of laughter. Let the hobbits think I was special... although, on second thought, maybe that wasn't a good idea. They'd probably insist on having me join the Fellowship now. I shuddered. I didn't want to break canon that much- and I didn't want to go on that trip.

I was stretching the story as it was. It would only get worse if I went off on that guys-only, nine person trip. I didn't want to think about what would happen- even not including the orcs, balrogs, Gollum, battles, unwashedness, and- more than likely- someone hitting on me all the time. It would be very unpleasant indeed.

I lifted Frodo onto Nardal and leapt up behind him, urging my horse on with a muttered "Noro lim!"

We sped down the path onto the Road and back to Rivendell.

Before I'd gotten two miles down the road, I heard the thunder of hooves behind me, and a trickle of fear joined the trickle of worry in running marathons up and down my back. The Nazgul were chasing me.

Okay, it was Frodo they were after, but I was the one steering the damn horse. It felt like they were chasing me.

I urged Nardal on to even greater speeds, but the Nazgul were still gaining on us. I couldn't help being scared I was going to fall off my mare, even though I knew that my fantastically artificial riding skills would keep me from dying. We were going faster than I'd ever gone before on _anything, _even something like a car, and they were still catching up.

It was so not good.

One came up to my side, reaching out to grab Frodo. I reached out and slapped its hand without thinking, veering away from the Ringwraith.

The wind whipped around me and through my hair as we hurtled through woods, over plains, and finally, across the Bruinen. There Nardal and I stopped, while the Nazgul lingered on the other side, reluctant to cross over to the protected land of Rivendell. One of them- Khamul, I assumed- spurred his horse forward, hissing menacingly. "Give us the halfling, she-elf!"

"Take him over my dead body, Ring-scum," I growled defiantly, ignoring the trickle of panic that was now engaging in a relay race with the fear and worry. I tried to remember the words that Arwen used in the movie. "Nin o Chithaesomething, lasto beth... dair? Rimmo nin Bruinen, drown the goddamn things..."

I wasn't expecting it to work, but I guess my intentions were pure or some nonsense like that. A wall of water, surmounted by foaming horses, roared down the canyon as the Nazgul made their first moves to cross the river.

I watched, transfixed by the sight, for a few moments, and then wheeled Nardal, galloping as fast as I could to the Last Homely House East of the Sea.


	4. Chapter Four

_**Chapter Four: A Poet He Ain't**_

I'd never been gladder to see a place that I didn't belong in than when I saw the graceful arches and balconies of Rivendell. Frodo had stopped making his strange grunting sounds and he sagged against Nardal's neck like a sack of flour. I galloped up to the main door, where Elrond stood, waiting.

"I don't know if he's still with us, milord. I rode as quickly as he could, but he's getting worse." I slid off Nardal's back, lifting off Frodo, too. Elrond carried him inside and I led Nardal to the stables- I'd taken a few riding lessons, and while they hadn't managed to make me a better rider, I knew how to take care of the basics when taking care of a horse.

I made sure Nardal was fed and comfortable and went back to my room.

I was tired, my bones aching from the hours of riding, and my bed was soft and warm and fluffy, but I'd already searched my room for strange sigils, or scrolls, or magical objects, or _something_ that would explain why I was here. It was time to take another step in finding out why I'd woken up as an elven princess where no elven princess should be. I headed for the library.

I started looking in the dustiest and darkest corner of the library (dustiest was a metaphor. The House of Elrond is always sparkly-clean), assuming that, naturally, any important- or darkly magical- scrolls would be back there. Important scrolls always had the back corners, and dark magic had the back corners of those back corners. I pulled out a bunch and looked through them- they were understandable, to my delight, but they didn't have anything that could explain why I was here. I meandered through the rest of the library, but it was just as bare, so I finally gave in to the siren call of sleep and headed for bed.

I woke up around twilight, restless with the need to do something. The halls of the house were quiet, so I went outside, crossing the river to the pine woods. The sun was bathing the valley in a red light, and it filtered through the trees to stain everything rust. It was nearly silent, only the birds chirping, and small animal noises.

Small.

Animal.

Noises.

They were getting louder, too. As an aside, I've always been terrified of anything small than a cow. There were several 'squirrel incidents' in my past, and they scarred me for life. It was a curse, and it hadn't gone away when I'd gotten my new body.

I looked around- there were... things. Raccoons around me, on the forest floor. Squirrels- oh god, squirrels- hopping through the branches above my head. I could see a deer and her fawn peeking through the bushes, and there were mice and voles and... gerbils?

The gerbils were weird.

Birds fluttered down to perch on me, a _beaver_ stopped to stare at me and I really had to wonder where the capybara had come from. At least, the part of me that wasn't paralyzed with terror did.

Soon I was too scared to move. I backed up against a tree trunk, hoping they wouldn't come at me from behind, but one of the braver squirrels ran down the trunk and nestled in my hair. Something came soaring at me from nowhere- a sugar glider, and it attached itself to the front of my bodice.

I couldn't help it. I screamed.

The animals scattered, melting into the woods like they'd never been there in the first place. I finally opened my eyes to see a horse and rider, coming through the trees from the top of the valley. The light was glaring down into my eyes, but I could tell it was an elf, tall and graceful- much like myself. He rode down towards me, the sunlight staining his hair red. I couldn't see his features clearly, but I had the sinking feeling that this was a trap, some sort of set up.

He came up next to me, and I could see his face. It was a trap all right- Legolas Thranduilion, the Prince of Mirkwood, was on a horse right next to me. I assumed my heart was supposed to pitter-pat, but I couldn't care less. Legolas was a good fighter, but I'd never fawned all over him like practically everyone else I knew. Besides, having looked around Rivendell, I realized that Legolas was barely average-looking. I could name a dozen elves who were prettier.

Someone, however, had evil plans for this meeting, and I heard Legolas' voice ask gently. "Why did you scream, gentle maiden? What has distressed you?"

I tried to wipe some bird droppings off of the shoulder of my dress. "Uh, I got surrounded by, um. Small animals. They freak me out."

The elf prince looked completely nonplussed and I tried to shrug nonchalantly. "Ah. I see. Well, fair maiden, would you accept a ride to the House of Elrond on my horse Caladar? He would be happy to bear you, and no maiden should walk even these woods alone after nightfall."

"Um. Thanks."

Legolas politely dismounted and held Caladar while I scrambled onto the horse- apparently my fear made me less graceful- and thundered down the path back to the house. When I came to the stables, a servant was waiting for me.

"Lady Elwen? That is Prince Legolas' horse. Has he arrived?"

"He gave me his horse so I wouldn't be alone in the woods after dark. He'll be here soon." I was purposefully brusque- I didn't want to say what I could feel on the tip of my tongue, something overdramatic and grateful. I turned to go inside, when I saw the unhandsome elven prince come over the bridge.

Elrond rushed through the door, welcoming him in a terribly undignified way. I was annoyed- Elrond, by rights, didn't hug people like that, nor did he kiss them on the cheeks, European style. He was an Elf lord, not an informal lackwit. It got worse.

"We shall have a feast to celebrate the recovery of the Ringbearer and the arrival of the delegates for the Council! Let the preparations begin!"

I muffled a groan. Since when had Frodo recovered so quickly? It had taken three days in the book, and while in the movie it wasn't as clear, this was _ridiculous. _He hadn't even been here for a whole day. I stalked off to my room, only to find Nendilme waiting there for me. As soon as the door shut behind me, she started talking.

"Milady, you are going to be the most beautiful elf at the ball tonight! Lady Arwen shall be eclipsed by your radiance!" She looked a little doubtfully at my disheveled state. "Well, if we get to work right now, anyways."

I closed my eyes and let her work on me, gently combing out my hair. Right now, all I wanted to do was go home- spend some time with my dog and my mom and spend time in my own room, with my own bed and computer, no magic, no elves, no being forced into a body that isn't mine... when I opened them, I was still in front of the mirror, my hair hanging neatly down my back again.

"Milady, you must begin getting dressed. Here, try this dress on, and this one, and this one, and this one, and this one. You really must look your best, your father wishes to arrange a marriage between the son of King Thranduil and you. He'll be at the feast tonight."

"I've already seen him," I muttered, as I jerked the first dress over my head- I think I actually popped a seam, but I didn't care. "He's no great prize. I've seen servants who're prettier _and_ more graceful than he is."

"But he is the son of a king! You and he would rule both Mirkwood and Rivendell after King Thranduil and Lord Elrond died or left for the Havens." She added another dress to the ever-growing pile.

"You shouldn't say that, Nendilme. It's incredibly rude and I'm not going to marry him." I was firm on that point. No matter how many fangirls would die to be in my situation, I'd die to be out of it without marrying him. "Besides, Elves don't have arranged marriages. It's a love thing and I don't love him."

I tried on another dress, a simple gold silk that was embroidered with green leaves and small emeralds. "I think I'll wear this one. It's very..." I tried to find the least Tolkien word I could. "...groovy. It's groovy."

Nendilme gave me an odd look. "Very well, milady. You can wear the topaz and emerald jewels with that, and I shall do your hair and your makeup."

Woah. Pause, back up, run that by me again? Makeup? Where did Elves get makeup? I thought their beauty was natural. Apparently not. "I'm not wearing makeup. I'm pretty enough that I don't need it." When in doubt, have recourse to bitter sarcasm. At least it'll make you feel better.

"Of course you're right, milady, I'll just do your hair. You'll be so beautiful!" The maid looked like she was going to faint from sheer glee. Sometimes she was just so... _unelvish. _Maybe we were a good match for each other.

She combed my hair and did something arcane with a bunch of braids and some jeweled clips. It looked good but I didn't have a clue how it worked, and was trying to figure out if it would stay when I heard a bell chime and Nendilme pulled me to my feet. "You need to hurry! The feast will be starting very soon!"

The main dining room was amazing- there were frescoes and hangings all over the walls, depicting elven history through the ages, and the long table and chairs were carved within an inch of their lives. I was seated at the foot of the table, with Frodo on my right, and an elf that I couldn't identify on my left.

Dinner was very uncomfortable, and I don't mean the pin that some clever trickster had stuck in my chair. Frodo and Legolas stared adoringly at me all through the soup, fish, salad, main course, and cheese. By the time we got to dessert, I thought their eyes might have dropped out of their heads. Not that I was going to be that lucky. As we dug into our highly anachronistic pudding, Legolas pushed his chair back, clearing his throat.

"I wish to say that the hospitality of Rivendell has never decreased, and that the beauty of the recently returned Elwen Romenel has only made it better. To honour this occasion, I would like to say a poem in her praise."

I looked around, hoping that someone, somewhere would stop him. I got as far as half-standing and opening my mouth when he began.

"Oh maiden fair, oh Morning Star

I saw your light come from afar

It beamed so bright

That in a fight

The foe was thrown down

In the stream he did drown

Now that I have come to your side

I wish that there forever I could bide

Bound to your beauty so rare

I wish that your life I could share."

I couldn't control a shudder of disgust. The meter was off, the rhymes were awful... this piece of doggerel didn't even come close to _mediocre, _let alone anything elvish. And everyone was applauding, and I was supposed to be flattered.

I did the only thing I could think of doing. I stood, gathering my skirts up, and ran. After all, it's only a highly important diplomatic banquet. What harm could leaving in a hurry do?


End file.
